Continuing our Argentina-Chile shuffle, we left the Pucón motocamp and headed to the border of Argentina. It felt somewhat surreal knowing that we were about to start the long-awaited Patagonia portion of our trip, and we rode with added excitement that morning. The border crossing was by far our fastest yet, taking only 20 minutes before we were welcomed into Argentina with a not so nice stretch of rough gravel. Fortunately, it only lasted about 20 kilometers and we soon found ourselves on smooth pavement again, wizzing by beautiful snow-capped mountains as we made our way to San Martín de los Andes.
We spent that evening walking around the scenic, lakeside town and taking in sunset views of the lake over some ice cream. We also visited a few outdoor shops since our camping in Pucón had revealed a hole in Brian's sleeping pad. We were unable to find a suitable replacement so we retreated back to our small backyard cabin on the mountainside overlooking the town, complete with the friendliest little house cat that hung out with us for the rest of the evening.
The next morning, we embarked on a stunning ride through Argentina's Siete Lagos (Seven Lakes) region. The three hour route ended up taking us over six hours because we stopped so many times to take in the beautiful vistas. We also made a couple of off-road detours to reach even more beautiful lakes.
Eventually, we made it to Bariloche, a beautiful lakeside ski town known for its delicious chocolates. We stayed a little bit outside of the town in a hostel with a view of the lake and spent that evening taking in the view over some beers.
The next day, we took the bikes for a ride around the Circuito Chico, a 40 kilometer tourist loop near the town full of beautiful views, restaurants, and breweries. We started out by taking the ski lift up to Cerro Campanario for a panoramic view of the surrounding mountains and lakes.
After taking in the scenery at the top, we headed back down and continued on the loop, stopping at the numerous miradors, each one showcasing another beautiful feature of the landscape.
We then made our way to a hotel and spa called Llao Llao. Brian had come here for high tea eight years ago while traveling in Patagonia with his family and he enjoyed a nice walk down memory lane as we ate a delicious lunch overlooking the grounds.
Our next stop on the circuit was a restaurant and beer garden called Patagonia Cervezeria. Although we couldn't drink much since we were riding, that didn't stop us from spending a few hours here enjoying the view and perfect weather.
Our final stop on the loop was a brewery and pizzeria where we got some dinner before returning to our hostel. The next morning, we continued our search for a new sleeping pad for Brian as well as new tires for the bikes. We were hoping the tires we got back in Cusco would last the rest of the trip, but they were showing a lot of uneven wearing from the 9,000+ kilometers we had put on them, and we weren't sure if they would make it the remaining 2,500 kilometers.
We knew this might be our last chance to find tires, especially since we have an unusual size (18”) front tire. As expected, everyone we asked had a varying opinion as to whether or not our tires would last, but we eventually decided not to buy the absurdly expensive ones we found - only time will tell if this was a good decision. We did, however, find and buy a new sleeping pad for Brian along with some gas containers to carry extra fuel for the stretches in Argentina that are notorious for gas shortages. Feeling accomplished, we spent the rest of the day lounging at the Patagonia Cervezeria, reading books and soaking up the sun.
After three nights in Bariloche, we were back on the road and heading to El Bolsón. We had actually contemplated skipping this region of Argentina due to a virus called HANTA that was making headlines. It is a virus transmitted by rats and sometimes jumps from human to human. As is usual, the media was making it out to be some big thing, but after doing our research and talking to locals, we realized it is a yearly occurrence that was blown a bit out of proportion this year. The main recommendations to avoid catching it are to not handle rat feces with your bare hands and to not leave trash out while camping. Since we weren't planning to do either of these things (especially the former), we continued south.
Prior to arriving, El Bolsón was described to us as a hippie town, and it definitely lived up to its reputation. Everywhere you looked there were shoestring travelers walking around aimlessly with large backpacks, street performers, and people selling artisanal goods. We had heard there was good hiking in the area so after walking around a bit, we stopped by the national park information station. After 15 minutes of conversing with the gentleman there, we walked away none the wiser as he had no real advice to give us other than telling us any trail we choose would be good and giving us a confusing map of the trails. Feeling a bit tired and just wanting to relax, we headed to our small apartment we had rented for the evening. We were greeted by the friendliest owner who gave us two beers and shared some of his mother's birthday feast with us. He also let us do laundry for free (unheard of everywhere we have traveled thus far)! We enjoyed the place so much that we stayed an extra night.
The following day, we rode to a beach in Parque Nacional Lago Puelo and spent the afternoon reading our books and occasionally taking a quick dip in the frigid lake water before returning to our apartment to make dinner and watch part of the Super Bowl (an event we completely forgot about until the day before).
*Note Brian's face in the second photo: I am not sure if he is reacting more to the freezing cold water, or the couple behind him showing way too much PDA.
The next day, it was time to make our way across the border again. We were headed to Futaleufú to do some white water rafting. The route had a somewhat challenging 80 kilometer off-road section, but as always, the views on the way made it worth it.
What we didn't know until that morning, however, was that there was a small forest fire making its way toward the town. After about 40 minutes and the most thorough checking of our bags yet, we were over the border. Within about 10 kilometers of the crossing, we began to see smoke, and when we arrived in the town we saw this:
Brian and I began looking for lodging in town as far away from the fire as we could. At one point, Brian was inquiring in a hostel about a room and he saw the flames coming over the ridge. At that moment, he politely declined the room at the potentially flaming inferno, and we opted to ride out of town and away from the fire to a campsite we had found on iOverlander. There was a small river separating the town from the fire so the odds of it jumping were low, but we didn't want to take the chance.
The road to the campsite was 10 kilometers of hilly, winding gravel road that made my hands sore from clutching the handlebars so hard, but after making it to the campsite, we were very happy with our decision as this was our view the following morning:
From our isolated spot on the river, we also had the most spectacular view of the night sky, which was comprised of more stars than we had ever seen.
After a lazy morning around the campsite the following day, we headed into town to inquire about white water rafting. The forest fire was still going, but appeared to be much more under control. After talking with the townspeople, we found out that the fire started due to a cell tower blowing up. The fire was initially very small and people in town claimed the local fire department just ignored it thinking it would put itself out. After being assured the fire would not affect rafting, we booked an excursion for the following day and then got lunch in the town. We returned to our campsite for a peaceful night of reading our books down by the river.
The next morning, we awoke early to ride the winding, gravel road into town and join our group for the rafting excursion. The Futaleufú River is world-renowned, containing some of the best class 4 and class 5 rapids. In fact, one of the guys in our boat is a rafting guide back in Colorado, and he liked the river so much he was back for a second day in a row to run it again. We had a great group of fellow rafters in our boat and the river did not disappoint! For once, I managed to stay in the boat the entire day, not falling out like my previous two times rafting (which is good since the water was pretty cold).
After an awesome day on the river, we spent the afternoon in town trying to figure out our plan for the upcoming rainy days. It seemed there was no way of escaping the rain, so we made a plan to stay at a covered campsite that was part of a lodge with a fireplace that campers could use.
The next day, we enjoyed a relaxing morning at the campsite before beginning to pack up our gear. Then Ralph the rooster decided to make things more interesting.
Meet Ralph. Ralph and I bonded while I was eating breakfast that morning. Our time together began to lessen my hate for roosters that I developed on this trip; that is, until Ralph betrayed me. After eating breakfast, I walked back to the tent to find Ralph had peed inside the top lid of my backpack (fortunately missing my clothes). He also peed on the outside of my side of the tent and my front bike tire. Ralph and I are no longer on good terms.
After doing the best I could to clean Ralph's present off my bag, we hit the road. We had 80 kilometers of off-road riding to do before reaching the famous Carretera Austral. The road was not very forgiving for someone (me) who doesn't love off-road, but we eventually made it to the start of the Austral!
The town the gravel road led us to is called Santa Lucia. It was wiped out by a landslide in 2017 and the the effects of the devastation are still very prevalent. It was disheartening to see all of the destruction still strewn about, but fortunately tourism in Santa Lucia appeared to be booming as we saw loads of backpackers walking around the preserved section of the town.
Happy to be done with off-road riding for the time being, we took off down the Carretera Austral toward Chaiten. Unfortunately, the campsite with the attached lodge was completely booked so we had to continue further north to an uncovered campsite inside the Pumalín National Park.
Pumalín National Park is part of the enormous stretch of land that Doug Tompkins (the founder of The North Face brand) and his wife, Kris Tompkins, owned prior to Doug's unfortunate death in 2015. Although the Tompkins' buying of land in Chile and Argentina was controversial at the time, Doug proved himself a noble and honest man by dedicating a lot of his time and effort to conservation work. A couple of years after his death, his wife donated a large portion of the land back to Chile and Argentina, making the largest gift of private land to government in South America
For once, the weather forecast was accurate and it did indeed rain on and off for the next two days. Even still, we managed to find a big enough weather window to do a mirador hike in the park which led us to this view:
Other than that, we hid in our tent, reading and watching some of the remaining downloaded movies on Brian's hard drive. After three nights, the sun finally came out and we were able to get back on the bikes and ride south to Puyuhuapi. During our ride, Brian and I realized we had reached 10,000 miles of riding since starting our trip! We decided to celebrate by treating ourselves to a hostel with some WiFi after six consecutive nights of camping.
The next day, we had more excellent weather and were able to hike up to the Ventisquero Colgante (Hanging Glacier) in Parque Queulat. When the glacier was discovered in 1875, it reached almost to the sea, but today it is further than 7,800 meters away, with the only piece left hanging precariously on the mountainside. It was a relatively short, but steep hike through dense vegetation that covered all views of the glacier until the very top where the trail opened up to a beautiful mirador.
After enjoying the view of the glacier, we made our way back down the mountain and into town to grab some dinner and catch the sunset over the lake.
Our next destination was Coyhaique, Chile. The middle of the 233 kilometer stretch contained a section of gravel hairpin turns as we wound our way up and down a mountain pass. Fortunately, we had great luck with the weather (something we keep getting told by all of the locals on sunny days) and enjoyed the sunlit vistas of the surrounding landscape as we made our way to the city.
Coyhaique would be our last “big” city stop for a while, so we decided to check one last time for new tires, but to no avail. We spent the rest of the evening walking around the uniquely pentagon-shaped main “square” before getting dinner and going to bed.
The next day was a short ride of just 95 kilometers to reach Villa Cerro Castillo, a small town of only 2 streets x 8 streets with a view of the majestic Cerro Castillo mountain. After checking into our hostel and unpacking the bikes, we headed back out for a ride to Puerto Ibáñez, an equally sleepy neighboring town located north of General Carrerra Lake, which is Chile's largest lake and the place where Doug Tompkins had the kayaking accident which took his life. The ride to Puerto Ibáñez gave us our first real introduction into Patagonian winds. Thus far, we had not experienced the notorious gusts that have been known to knock people off of their bikes. We made it down to the water's edge and spent time watching in awe as the bright blue water transformed colors with the setting sun.
The next morning, we set out early on our hike. The weather gods were with us once again as the sun was shining and the air was so warm we didn't even need a coat. The trail we took to the top of Cerro Castillo is actually the last day of a usually four-day hike. People who are pressed for time or not wanting to do the whole four days can hike the last day in reverse. The 7 kilometers of continuous uphill were punctuated with countless rests to take in the changing scenery and catch our breath (we are definitely not as in shape as our Cotopaxi climbing days). The trail started out in a dense forest until we wound our way up above the tree line to beautiful panoramic mountain views. The final stretch was comprised of rock scree, making us glad we had found some hiking sticks. When we reached the top, the view was absolutely breathtaking! The scene that unfolded in front of us looked like something out of a painting. (There is zero photo-editing in any of the pictures below)
We spent two hours at the top and could have stayed there even longer if the soon-to-be setting sun (and our depleted supply of snacks) hadn't convinced us it was time to head down. When we reached the bottom, we stopped at a small restaurant & bar for some well-deserved beers and dinner.
The next day, we set out for 120 kilometers of off-road riding on the Carretera Austral to reach Puerto Rio Tranquilo, a small town on the western shore of Lake General Carrera. The gravel roads felt surprisingly easy as I realized how much I have improved since my first day of off-road riding in Colombia. We ate lots of other vehicles' dust, but made excellent time and were welcomed into the town with stunning views of the crystal blue lake.
We spent our first night in a hostel in hopes of using the WiFi to plan the next few days. When we realized asking for good WiFi was a tall order in this town (as in most of Patagonia), we set out on foot to talk to the tourist office and tourist agencies. We made plans to take a boat tour of the Marble Caves the following morning and then a glacier trek on the Exploradores Glacier the following day. As is often the case in Patagonia, mother nature had the final say and the port was closed due to wind the next morning. Not in any rush to leave this beautiful town, we opted to ride 20 kilometers to a campsite that a few of our riding friends recommended to us. We spent the rest of the day lounging in the sun with a view of the towering glacier.
The following morning, we awoke early to embark on our glacier trek. The tour company picked us up at our campsite since it was on the way (and we wanted to ride the 20 kilometers of pure washboard to/from town as little as possible), and we set off down the road. After 15 kilometers of bumpy road, mother nature had another surprise for us. The crazy, torrential rain we had gotten the previous night had flooded out the road to the glacier making it impassable. After trying to troubleshoot the problem, we had to turn back as there was no way to get around the flooding. Even though we didn't get to do the glacier trek, Brian still managed to get some pretty awesome drone footage at the water's edge.
Feeling slightly defeated but not letting the mishap ruin our day of beautiful weather, we headed into town to do the Marble Caves tour. The weather was absolutely perfect as the lake was calm and the sun was shining. The marble caves, which surround the coast of the lake, have been slowly carved from wind and waves over the past 6,000+ years. As we approached the caves, the marble showed its most vibrant colors as the shining sun created dancing shapes of blue, yellow, and white light, reflecting a canvas of colors into the brilliant blue glacial waters.
We spent a few more hours in town gathering supplies, eating some of the delicious nutella crepes from the French-owned food truck, and taking in views of the lake before heading back to our campsite. Since we didn’t have the bikes with us, we got to try our hand at hitchhiking. The number of tourist hitchhikers we have seen since entering Patagonia is insane, but we figured if so many people do it, it must not be that hard. It didn’t take too long before we were picked up by a friendly couple on their way home who drove us half of the way. We then walked a little further down the road and were picked up by another friendly family of Chilean tourists.
Once back at camp, we spent the rest of the day reading and eating a couple of the delicious churrasco sandwiches from the campside restaurant.
It rained almost the entire following day, but we can’t say that we minded all that much. After emerging into the cold air from our tent, we escaped inside to sit by the restaurant’s fire stove, sipping hot chocolates and reading our books until the rain finally dissipated in the evening. It was a nice, relaxing day and made us ready for the 180 kilometers of off-road riding that were to come.
We woke up early the next morning in the off chance that the glacier tour company that we rescheduled with had figured out a way around the flooding. We had rescheduled our tour in town when we did the caves two days prior, but seeing as there was no WiFi or cell signal at the campsite, we had no way of knowing if the tour was cancelled other than waking up to see if they drove by.
Unsurprisingly, they never came, so we packed up the tent and rode the 20 kilometers into town for our refund. We then set out for the 180 kilometer section of off-road to Chile Chico, a small town near the border of Argentina where we were planning to cross in the upcoming days.
Brian and I both agree that this day had some of the most spectacular riding views of our entire trip. The majority of the route hugged the General Carrera Lake, which is a lake I don’t think I could ever tire of looking at. During the day, our time on the Carretera Austral sadly came to an end as we turned east toward Argentina.
The riding was going well and I was feeling very confident until about 120 kilometers in when we encountered some very large, very deep gravel. Even with Brian’s warning up ahead, I dropped the bike in the first stretch of it. Unfortunately, there was more of this gravel to come. Each time we encountered a new patch, I tried to waddle my way through it for fear of dropping the bike again, but the strong gusts of wind made this all the more difficult. Even though I knew riding through it would be better, my confidence was shaken and I slowly and finally made my way through the last patch. Despite this added difficulty at the end, it was still one of my favorite days of riding.
We arrived in Chile Chico, got dinner, and found a hostel for the night. We had planned to head to the border the following morning, but once we thought about the long list of things we wanted to get done, we decided to push back our departure. Two nights turned into three as we took some time to do work on the bikes (Brian cleaned the chains and air filters), run errands, workout, trip plan and blog with the first good WiFi we’d had in a while, and relax.
The following morning, we set out to cross the border back into Argentina for what is known as the toughest and windiest stretch of Ruta 40 (and potentially the toughest stretch of our whole trip).
Cheers,
Erin and Brian